Pumba

This is one of the hunter's mates, Pumba.

No, Pumba isn't destined for the freezer and anyone who suggests or assumes so is quickly corrected. "No! Pumba is my mate". As a piglet Pumba was delivered to the nearby Selwyn District Animal Pound. He had a lot put him by their son and eventually Pumba came to live at the hunters.

You could say Pumba has the life of Riley. He has a large front paddock to himself which he roots to the point it looks like earth moving equipment regularly does some random acts. He's fed barley and the contents of the kitchen organics bin.

The hunter regularly directs some of the local water race into part of Pumba's paddock. You can see the result is mud which he's rolled and grunted in, hence no pats from me.

The hunter has a weird male bond thing with Pumba. Let's just say he provides Pumba with a scratching service which Pumba enjoys so much he lifts one of his back legs and grunts loudly. I've made it clear I won't ever be doing this task ;-)

Pumba mostly has a grand life. Mostly because each litter of growing pups gets one introduction to Pumba to make sure they have the breeding to fire up at the sight of a pig. While it's all controlled and careful, it must be confusing to Pumba.

Pumba is a character but I'm careful and don't get in with him without the hunter there. He's big and powerful and could easily do a lot of damage without being particularly aggressive. If he leaned against me to have a scratch he'd flatten me. That head just has to shake and the hooks could be in your leg.

Back at my house I achieved respectable orderliness (sort of). Plus I managed a large nana-nap and read my book this afternoon.

All rather lovely and restorative :-)

Yesterday's abandoned stadium

See Pixel Smith's earthquake tour for a superb insight into living in Christchurch and impressions from visitors. Great stuff.